They swarmed over the fallen tree, each to their task with practiced efficiency. Two used a double-ended saw — in other contexts it would be called a “two-man saw” — to cut the trunk into neat sections. Another used loppers on the branches, and fence repairs started as soon as there was space to work. The new moon combined with cloud cover and the canopy of trees to give near-darkness, and their tools were selected for near-silence. There was nothing humans would consider conversation, only muttered commands: Forward, back, up, down, left, right, along with a very specific grunt that translated to, “The other left, you idiot.”
In eight minutes they were done. Everything and everyone was in the rubber-tired wagon, the robotic engine headed back into the compound.
As if they’d never been.